Chapter 18
"Why did you do it? What had he ever done to you?"
The voice echoed in the confines of Shade's mind. He had been walking towards Deningrad for hours, and the cold was making him delirious. His gloved hands were in his armpits, his body hunched against the biting wind, trying to preserve the warmth he had left. As he had years ago, he replied to the voice that rang from the deepest parts of his memory.
"I told you, I didn't do it! I was set up!"
The voice answered, exactly as it had more than 10 years ago.
"Get out! Now! Never come back!"
Finally, Shade was overcome. He stumbled, lost his balance, and fell. To his great surprise, the ice beneath him shattered, and he fell down... down... and all went black.
When he awoke, he had no idea how long he had been unconscious. He attempted to move, and felt a sharp pain. His left leg was broken. He couldn't walk. He was crippled now, even more than they had managed to in the lab. He would die here, in this frozen wasteland.
He couldn't move to survey his surroundings, so he simply stared upwards. The hole he had made in the ice was still up there, far out of reach, and the walls were too slick to climb even if he could use his leg. He must have fallen through one of the infamous ice tunnels dug by monsters during the Second Dragoon Campaign. Over a thousand winters, the region's blizzards had created a soft cushion of snow at the bottom of the tunnel, which had been the deciding factor between breaking his leg or breaking his spine. However, this snow had also gradually covered the mouth of the hole, until the tunnel opening had been covered by a thin layer of frost, which Shade's weight had shattered.
He studied the proportions of the tunnel. It was long, and wide enough to fit the RV that Shade had been in just hours ago. Whatever had dug this tunnel was big. He struggled, and managed to push himself onto his right knee. He tried to stand, but promptly collapsed. It was useless. His good leg would simply not support his weight.
"DAMNIT!"
His oath echoed surreally throughout the tunnel, and he suddenly heard a snort, followed by hoarse breathing. Shade instantly knew what that sound meant. The monsters that had hid here after the Second Dragoon Campaign DID survive, or at least long enough to reproduce. His voice had woken it from its sleep. Sure enough, a gigantic insect-like head suddenly filled the lighted portion of the tunnel. The thing looked like a gigantic centipede, its body a vivid electric blue. It reared up on its back legs, so that its head nearly touched the ceiling, and clicked its huge mandibles in anticipation of a fresh meal.
Shade knew what to do. He reached within the folds of his outfit for his Dragoon Spirit, and let the magic wash over him, forming his armor. He beat his wings and lifted off the ground. He no longer needed his left leg, which dangled like the useless appendage of a rag doll. But he would need it after his transformation. He pondered the dilemma for a moment, then got an idea. He hovered in the air, and a blue aura surrounded him.
"Astral Drain!"
He drew both his swords, and simultaneously hurled them at the beast. They embedded themselves in both sides of the creature's head, just beneath the multifaceted eyes. Shade focused his mind on the hilts, and conducted the monstrosity's life energy through the blades like electricity. The energy flowed from the swords into his waiting hands. He felt the fragments of bone in his leg rearrange themselves, the aching in his back ebbed.
The creature lunged forward to devour the Dragoon, but Shade was to fast for that. He dodged to the left, and with his serrated blade, cut a long slash through the creature's flank. The centipede let out an earth- shattering shriek, and faded into smoke. The walls of the tunnel began to shake. Shade instantly knew that the beast's scream must have started a cave-in. Tons of ice and snow crashed down on him.
But Shade had a last-minute stroke of genius. In the nanosecond before he would have been crushed by the cave-in, he created a magical shield around himself. He beat his wings, and as he moved upwards, the snow moved away from the field of dark magic, repelled by it like identical poles of a magnet. He eventually burst through the top layer of permafrost, on the surface once again.
His Dragoon armor faded away in a flash of magic, and he walked on towards Deningrad, bursting with refreshed energy.
Dawn grasped the diamond Spirit as best she could while driving, and focused her mind on its crystalline depths, searching for beings with superior magical power. She felt the tug. There was one to the west. Good, she was heading in the right direction. She couldn't tell whether it was Rayen, Phil, or Shade, but if they were to have any chance of reuniting, she had to catch whoever it was before they went too far. She deduced that since she had awoken in the RV, all the others were traveling on foot. It wouldn't be too difficult to reach them.
She continued driving down the highway. She wasn't sure if the others had figured out that they could use their Spirits to locate each other yet. She hoped that whoever was closest to her had, because that would mean they could reach each other even faster. She took an exit into a small town. She navigated her way through the town and onto a deserted dirt road, following the invisible trail of magic. Suddenly, the right side of the motorhome jerked, nearly bucking Dawn out of her seat. What a time for one of the tires to blow out! She turned off the road so she could examine the damage and get the spare.
She opened the door and got out, slamming it behind her. She bent over to diagnose the right front tire. It had three diagonal slash marks. How the hell had that happened? Then she heard the cold voice from behind her.
"Jackpot."
Dawn slowly got to her feet and turned around. The mysterious Wingly stood there, grim satisfaction etched on her face, with a set of three steel claws strapped to each hand. Dawn gritted her teeth in irritation, reached into the motorhome for her berdiche, and grasped the Silver Dragoon Spirit in her hand. She was the hunted, but she wouldn't submit without a fight.
"Why did you do it? What had he ever done to you?"
The voice echoed in the confines of Shade's mind. He had been walking towards Deningrad for hours, and the cold was making him delirious. His gloved hands were in his armpits, his body hunched against the biting wind, trying to preserve the warmth he had left. As he had years ago, he replied to the voice that rang from the deepest parts of his memory.
"I told you, I didn't do it! I was set up!"
The voice answered, exactly as it had more than 10 years ago.
"Get out! Now! Never come back!"
Finally, Shade was overcome. He stumbled, lost his balance, and fell. To his great surprise, the ice beneath him shattered, and he fell down... down... and all went black.
When he awoke, he had no idea how long he had been unconscious. He attempted to move, and felt a sharp pain. His left leg was broken. He couldn't walk. He was crippled now, even more than they had managed to in the lab. He would die here, in this frozen wasteland.
He couldn't move to survey his surroundings, so he simply stared upwards. The hole he had made in the ice was still up there, far out of reach, and the walls were too slick to climb even if he could use his leg. He must have fallen through one of the infamous ice tunnels dug by monsters during the Second Dragoon Campaign. Over a thousand winters, the region's blizzards had created a soft cushion of snow at the bottom of the tunnel, which had been the deciding factor between breaking his leg or breaking his spine. However, this snow had also gradually covered the mouth of the hole, until the tunnel opening had been covered by a thin layer of frost, which Shade's weight had shattered.
He studied the proportions of the tunnel. It was long, and wide enough to fit the RV that Shade had been in just hours ago. Whatever had dug this tunnel was big. He struggled, and managed to push himself onto his right knee. He tried to stand, but promptly collapsed. It was useless. His good leg would simply not support his weight.
"DAMNIT!"
His oath echoed surreally throughout the tunnel, and he suddenly heard a snort, followed by hoarse breathing. Shade instantly knew what that sound meant. The monsters that had hid here after the Second Dragoon Campaign DID survive, or at least long enough to reproduce. His voice had woken it from its sleep. Sure enough, a gigantic insect-like head suddenly filled the lighted portion of the tunnel. The thing looked like a gigantic centipede, its body a vivid electric blue. It reared up on its back legs, so that its head nearly touched the ceiling, and clicked its huge mandibles in anticipation of a fresh meal.
Shade knew what to do. He reached within the folds of his outfit for his Dragoon Spirit, and let the magic wash over him, forming his armor. He beat his wings and lifted off the ground. He no longer needed his left leg, which dangled like the useless appendage of a rag doll. But he would need it after his transformation. He pondered the dilemma for a moment, then got an idea. He hovered in the air, and a blue aura surrounded him.
"Astral Drain!"
He drew both his swords, and simultaneously hurled them at the beast. They embedded themselves in both sides of the creature's head, just beneath the multifaceted eyes. Shade focused his mind on the hilts, and conducted the monstrosity's life energy through the blades like electricity. The energy flowed from the swords into his waiting hands. He felt the fragments of bone in his leg rearrange themselves, the aching in his back ebbed.
The creature lunged forward to devour the Dragoon, but Shade was to fast for that. He dodged to the left, and with his serrated blade, cut a long slash through the creature's flank. The centipede let out an earth- shattering shriek, and faded into smoke. The walls of the tunnel began to shake. Shade instantly knew that the beast's scream must have started a cave-in. Tons of ice and snow crashed down on him.
But Shade had a last-minute stroke of genius. In the nanosecond before he would have been crushed by the cave-in, he created a magical shield around himself. He beat his wings, and as he moved upwards, the snow moved away from the field of dark magic, repelled by it like identical poles of a magnet. He eventually burst through the top layer of permafrost, on the surface once again.
His Dragoon armor faded away in a flash of magic, and he walked on towards Deningrad, bursting with refreshed energy.
Dawn grasped the diamond Spirit as best she could while driving, and focused her mind on its crystalline depths, searching for beings with superior magical power. She felt the tug. There was one to the west. Good, she was heading in the right direction. She couldn't tell whether it was Rayen, Phil, or Shade, but if they were to have any chance of reuniting, she had to catch whoever it was before they went too far. She deduced that since she had awoken in the RV, all the others were traveling on foot. It wouldn't be too difficult to reach them.
She continued driving down the highway. She wasn't sure if the others had figured out that they could use their Spirits to locate each other yet. She hoped that whoever was closest to her had, because that would mean they could reach each other even faster. She took an exit into a small town. She navigated her way through the town and onto a deserted dirt road, following the invisible trail of magic. Suddenly, the right side of the motorhome jerked, nearly bucking Dawn out of her seat. What a time for one of the tires to blow out! She turned off the road so she could examine the damage and get the spare.
She opened the door and got out, slamming it behind her. She bent over to diagnose the right front tire. It had three diagonal slash marks. How the hell had that happened? Then she heard the cold voice from behind her.
"Jackpot."
Dawn slowly got to her feet and turned around. The mysterious Wingly stood there, grim satisfaction etched on her face, with a set of three steel claws strapped to each hand. Dawn gritted her teeth in irritation, reached into the motorhome for her berdiche, and grasped the Silver Dragoon Spirit in her hand. She was the hunted, but she wouldn't submit without a fight.